Silence and Betrayal
by hopelessfictionaddict
Summary: "There comes a time when silence is betrayal." - Martin Luther King Jr. Prejudice is hurtful, but sometimes inaction in the face of prejudice can hurt even more.


Silence and Betrayal

Summary: "There comes a time when silence is betrayal." - Martin Luther King Jr. Prejudice is hurtful, but sometimes inaction in the face of prejudice can hurt even more.

Note: This is my first ever fic, so please be nice! I think we all know by now that none of us on this site own Harry Potter. I am making no money off this at all. Please leave me a review letting me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

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><p>Remus was no stranger to betrayal. Merlin knows he had felt the proverbial knife in his back far too many times. No matter who played Brutus, be it Sirius, Peter, an old friend, or a total stranger, it never seemed to change.<p>

First there was the initial moment of numb shock, before the pain could sink in. As the act of treachery was discovered, but not yet comprehended.

Then came the dawning comprehension, accompanied by dizzying, stomach-churning sadness as the betrayal was revealed and the supposed friend revealed as false.

After came the short burst of white-hot rage. The momentary flash of anger and aggression. This part always scared Remus the most, as he came close to losing control of the beast within to the all too human swirl of emotions.

Finally, it always ended with the cold, cold realization that there was nothing he could do. The awful feeling of resignation, and even acceptance. It had happened before, and it would likely happen again. Such was life for a werewolf, for a resistance fighter, for Remus.

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><p>He had been hexed in the street before. It was not a common occurrence, but there still was precedent. He understood the psychological need for people to retaliate against a perceived threat, but the knowledge didn't make it any less painful. The ministry laws prohibiting him from retaliating, or even from defending himself did not help matters either. So when he found himself knocked off his feet, the back of his neck erupting in a stinging fury, and his face scraping against the cobbled street of Diagon Alley, he was hurt, but not overly surprised.<p>

He turned himself over slowly, careful not to make any moves that could be construed as threatening. He hoped to escape without any more violence. Wiping away the small drip of blood coming from his scraped forehead, he saw his attacker. Once again he was forced through the all too familiar steps, as he recognized the group of young men to be former students from his days as a Hogwarts professor.

One of them looked down at Remus, wand still pointed menacingly, his mouth quirked in a cold smile. "Alright there, Professor? That was a right nasty fall."

Had his attackers been Death Eaters, and this the height of the war, Remus would have ended the confrontation in seconds. He had never liked to rely on others to protect him when he was thoroughly capable. It went against his nature. But unable to protect himself in any way without provoking further violence, as well as legal repercussions, he was forced to scan the faces in the gathering crowd for any sign of assistance.

As the boys laughed, he spied not just one, but multiple familiar faces around him. There was the attendant at Flourish and Blotts, with whom he had discussed the merits of different books many times over the years, bonding over hours spent exploring various literary worlds. Trying to catch the man's eye, Remus was disappointed to see the attendant wordlessly turn away and scurry quietly back to his store.

Next He turned to the young woman watching from the back of the steadily growing throng. He recognized her as another former student and recent graduate from Hogwarts. Remus remembered her as a kind and thoughtful student. Surely she would speak up. Instead she remained at the back of the crowd, eyes swimming with tears, hands pressed against trembling lips, but resolutely silent.

Again, Remus' eyes landed on a familiar face, this time belonging to a man with whom he had gone to Hogwarts. Remus had spent hours in the library with him, tutoring the younger student, making sure he passed his exams. Feeling the onset of desperation he pleaded silently that his old friend would intercede. Instead the younger man determinedly avoided Remus' eyes, guiltily looking anywhere else but at Remus, sprawled on the ground.

Finally he was forced to turn back to the boys. Once again, he had been abandoned. No assistance would be forthcoming. He would have to get out of this mess on his own.

"That was rather clumsy of you. You should watch where you're going more." The boys laughed again at the bully's sneered remarks.

Deciding that self-effacing charm would produce better results than the torrent of angry words that sprang to his tongue, Remus answered with a forced smile.

"Yes, how clumsy of me."

Keeping his eyes lowered and his movements slow, he got to his feet so that he now stood a good bit taller than the pack of malevolent young men.

"How silly of me. I don't mean to cause a scene here in front of all these good people," he continued, trying to hint that another attack in front of a crowd of witnesses would not be a smart choice. "I'll just move along, shall I?"

"You watch yourself now, _Professor_. We wouldn't want any more nasty accidents." The title, professor, was not so much said as spat. Remus recognized parting shots, and began to edge away. With luck he could duck into a nearby alley and escape the crowd of curious onlookers.

He grit his teeth and again answered with forced pleasantness, "Yes, of course not. You have a nice day now."

The crowd, sensing the action was over, hastily made way for Remus as he strode away, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and his attackers as possible, without looking like he was running.

Yes, he had been betrayed before. His secrets had been spilled, he had been sold out by friends, he had been ambushed by strangers, and yet, what still shocked him the most was how easily good people could turn away. Every time it happened, he felt as if another small bit of his soul was frozen by the silence, another dagger of betrayal thrust into his already scarred back.

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><p><span>Note<span>: So? Good? Bad? Too many commas? Too much passive voice? Let me know with a review so I can get better. Thanks!


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